


Enough

by Nemamka



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character Study, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, How Do I Tag, Injury, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Smut, Summer, Voice Kink, nothing serious don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 01:57:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11818812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemamka/pseuds/Nemamka
Summary: Viktor is an idiot.He’s not irresponsible, his mind simply skips things sometimes.But Yuuri's always there to help."shortsie" written for a prompt sentence: “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you had just listened.”





	Enough

“It hurts so baaad!”

“Just stay still, please.”

“I feel like Yurio’d made good on his promise and skinned me alive...”

“He’s not going to skin you alive.”

“Judging from his face, he would have liked to.”

“Why are we even...” Yuuri just sighs. “Nevermind. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you had just _listened_.”

Viktor is an idiot.

He’s not irresponsible, his mind simply skips things sometimes. Minor things, like buying milk, like changing his night flip flops to proper shoes before immediately leaving to get some because it’s Yuuri who asked and it’s _important_. Major things, like the keys in the car in a laughter fueled rush after Yuuri right up to their bedroom, and some divine protection saving them from getting robbed. Easy things, like closing the window when there was a storm in forecast, to not have to cuddle Makkachin for hours so that she would recover from her fear of thunder. And, yes, things like putting on sunscreen before going to the beach when he knew he burnt easy as a white piece of paper in a bonfire.

That’s why they are standing in the bathroom now at near midnight, Viktor completely naked and dripping after a colder, calming shower, leaning on the sink and sulkily regarding his roasted self in the huge mirror above; and Yuuri is standing behind him, wiping him dry tenderly with the softest towel they owned, and preparing to coat almost his entire husband in body lotion.

“I listened! I did, I just got distracted by seeing you putting on your swim shorts. Can you bla _HOOO_ MYgod.”

Yuuri has just poured a generous amount of lotion in his hand and then smeared all of it on Viktor’s back, unforgiving.

“Well, you didn’t listen _enough_.”

“ _Jesus_ , that’s cold.”

“Sorry.”

“Me too, actually...” He looks sheepishly at Yuuri’s reflection. “I’m sorry we have to be doing this because I’m a silly...”

“Hey,” Yuuri smiles back at him over his shoulder, and kisses his neck before smoothing lotion there too. “It’s okay, it happens. Don’t worry.”

Viktor hums in appreciation, a twin smile spreading on his lips, enjoying the sweet care Yuuri is providing. While he takes care of his face, collarbones and chest, Yuuri’s hands roam all over his upper arms, his shoulder blades, his spine, his waist, his hips, and even lower, right under his cheeks, on the upper parts of his thighs, because of course Viktor had to wear briefs at one point, too.

And _god_ , was he beautiful. Yuuri remembers how he was running in the sand with Makkachin, his hair flying back from his face, his giggles making the day brighter than the sun ever could on its own - maybe that was what made Him scorching jealous -, and how Yuuri wished to be _every single_ drop of water running down that torso. His fingers follow the way of their ghosts now; he can’t stop himself.

“Hey, Viktor...”

“Hmm?”

“Would you listen to me now?”

Lotion nearly all spent, he moves a hand over Viktor’s hipbones, gently, _slooowly_ , unmistakably heading for his lower abdomen.

Viktor gasps, and grabs the lip of the sink more stiffly; his mouth falls open and he searches and searches and _searches_ for confirmation, for a _yes, really_ , in the hooded, heated, mystery cheating eyes in the mirror. By the time he exhales “Yes,” that hand is rediscovering his inner thigh, or rather, driving him mad, and then Yuuri stands up on his toes to kiss his cheek.

“Good,” he whispers, having Viktor completely lose it. “Close your eyes, then, you won’t need them.” And he’s ready to comply.

 

Lips on his neck. Hot breaths behind his ear. His lover’s body flush behind his. A hand holding onto his hip, gentle but steady, the other… stroking him, from base to tip. He shivers into the touch.

“Is this okay?”

Viktor gulps, nodding, and remembers to keep his eyes shut. It’s not dark; all of his attention is just focused on himself in a different way. He _feels_ , with heightened intensity, burnt and unburnt skin equally oversensitive. He _hears_.

“Good.” Yuuri’s voice is low, deeper than usual, growing confident. “Then we are going to talk.” His hand lazily indulges, nice and teasing. “I’m going to need you to promise me a few things. How about that, Viktor? _Hmm_?”

Viktor’s hips involuntarily buckle forward, but Yuuri’s grip on his side holds him back until he gets an answer.

“Yeah, yes, okay.”

“Good.” His tone is calm, collected. He talks slow. “Just a few, simple things.” His fingers curl up tighter. “ _So_.” Tight enough that _god_ , Viktor can feel his wedding band on his shaft. “Will you promise me… you’ll always stay this silly?”

Viktor’s exhale is a shaky huff of laughter.

“I’ll do what I can,” he provides without hesitation so that Yuuri doesn’t stop moving.

A tiny chuckle in response makes the little hairs on his arm stand up.

“I'll take that. Next.” He receives a kiss, soft and sloppy, on his hurt back. “Do you promise you’ll try to listen next time?”

“I—”

Yuuri twists his wrist in a very unfair way, and Viktor can only curse under his breath.

“What was that?”

He writhes when he feels Yuuri’s thumb brush around his slit, and all he wants is to thrust forward, but Yuuri’s other arm slides around his waist and keeps him dead steady until he says something coherent.

“Yes,” he manages. “Yes, I will…”

“You’re not just saying that so I would keep doing… _this_ , are you?”

He moans, and forces himself to _keep his eyes shut_. 

“No, I swear… I hear you…”

He’s holding onto the sink for dear life, to keep his knees from buckling.

“And you understand me clearly?”

“I— _nnnh_ , yes, yes, I do…”

“Good, good,” Yuuri has mercy, after all, and the pace he sets is fast now, building that kind, conceding tension, surrendering Viktor’s body to the pull.

“And do you…” A kiss on his shoulder. “Viktor Nikiforov…” A kiss on his back. “Promise to _believe me_ when I say I love you to the moon and back?”

“I-if… you do the same for me…”

He squirms, struggles to _keep his eyes shut_. He can’t look up, he promised… The answer must be satisfying because Yuuri’s tireless…

“That’s good enough.”

Yuuri kisses his nape and holds his whole upper body strong, now not for tease but for support; Viktor’s head falls back onto his shoulder, coming in his hand, trembling hard and panting away the sweet, sweet bliss, Yuuri’s strokes working him through to the last drop of his orgasm, tender and secure.

He keeps kissing what he can reach of him until Viktor gains enough strength to stand on his own again; then, still from behind Viktor, washes his hands and the mess they’ve made, and cleans his husband up one more time. With a last smooch he steps away for a second to get Viktor’s night shorts, then makes him lift his left foot, and then the right, to step in them, and pulls it up for him, letting the light fabric gently sit on his damaged skin.

He turns him around and kisses him proper.

Viktor reacts like a light bulb turned back on, full of life and love, the kiss deep and passionate, and he’s tugging Yuuri close by his neck and his waist like he’s insatiable for this man, and the answer to his initial question is no, no one would ever blame him.

When they pull away, Yuuri giggles.

“You can open your eyes now…”

And then Viktor does; he is glowing, the deep blue eyes stand out next to the redness even more stunning, the fond expression so genuine in them it would make any man cry. He sounds incredulous when he speaks, voice a little hoarse. 

“I’m glad I didn’t listen.”

And like a coin flipped, Yuuri’s cheeks burn hotter than the sun’s kiss.

His smile cuts his eye roll short as he makes his husband turn around and head towards the bed.

Viktor is this big, wonderful, dorky idiot.

He deserves to be reminded of his cuteness when his mind tricks him to believe something else. He deserves appreciation for the extra chocolate he buys next to the milk. He deserves the few nicer things he affords because he’s worked hard for them all his life. He deserves to spend the rest of the day in bed with his dog after a long day at the rink. And, yes, he deserves to be cared for when he could to it himself, too. Accidentally burning his skin or the house down, Yuuri wouldn’t care. He would be at his side and he would always be his.

All his. All perfect. Finally, and forever, _enough_.


End file.
